


Orioles in January

by bluetoast



Series: Birds of a Feather [47]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Birthday, Cancer, Deaf Dean Winchester, F/M, Mentions of Cancer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-31
Updated: 2016-01-31
Packaged: 2018-05-17 10:51:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,356
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5866534
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluetoast/pseuds/bluetoast
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Coulters go out for Dean's thirty-first birthday, at Ignacia's insistence.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Orioles in January

Ignacia looked solemnly into the mirror, adjusting the bright yellow and blue scarf wrapped around her head. Rather than wait for her hair to come out in handfuls due to chemotherapy, she had shaved the entire mass of dark chestnut waves off, convinced it was just better this way. It wasn't that she was afraid of losing her hair, or even that vain about it – but there were some things she didn't want Liesel seeing. And it was better for her five year old daughter to see her mommy with her head shaved than with scabby bald patches. “It will grow back.” She muttered to herself in Romanian. She closed her eyes, could picture her hair as it was, and took a deep breath. “This time next year, I will have my hair back and I will be well.” 

“I like your scarf.” Dean's voice was right next to her ear and she felt his lips on her cheek. 

She chuckled, opened her eyes and turned, returning the kiss. “Liar.”

“I'm not lying.” He shook his head, but she could see the amusement in his eyes. “I think you look beautiful.” He kissed her forehead. “How was your day?” 

“Tolerable.” She went and sat on the bed, watching Dean as he went into their closet and came back out a moment later with a change of clothes. “I don't feel sick.” She signed as she spoke. “How was your day?”

“I've had better, I've had worse.” He gave her a half smile as he changed from his work pants into jeans. “Today was decent, no surgeries scheduled on Sunday, but being on call...” He tossed the garment into the laundry hamper.

She adjusted how she was sitting, so her feet were resting on her knees. “My oncologist, Doctor Gaskin informed me that I will most likely lose my appetite with this next round of chemo and I should expect to lose weight.” she rolled her eyes. “As if that was somehow good news.” 

Dean shrugged into a different shirt. “Well then, when you're in remission come September, we'll just have to go the state fair, where I'm told they deep fry _everything.”_

 _“You're bad!”_ She huffed as he came over and sat next to her, putting an arm around her shoulders. “Sorry, I just...” 

He took her chin in his hand, his focus on her eyes. “We are going to get through this, Ignacia. You're going to kick this cancer ass, and to celebrate, we'll finally take that trip to Hawaii we've been wanting. And your mother and mine can argue over who gets to watch Liesel.” He kissed her again. “You're still certain you want to go out? I have no problem with us ordering pizza and staying home.” 

She smiled. “It's your birthday and you shouldn't have to cook. I think we established years ago that I _shouldn't_ cook.” 

“That was just the one time.” He shook his head, chuckling. “You make pretty mean leftovers.”

Ignacia gave him a playful shove. “You. Are. Terrible!” While she had only given Dean food poisoning once, she had long since given up achieving any sort of cooking prowess that required actual cooking. The majority of her contributions to the family meals were salads and anything that came with instructions on the package. “And I'll have you know, I helped with the making of your birthday cake!”

He was still grinning at her. “What, you opened the box?”

 _“Rebeca!”_ She grabbed the nearest throw pillow and he had just enough time to cover his face with his arm before she struck him with it. _“Te târî pic!”_

“How come _you're_ allowed to hit with pillows?” Liesel's voice, rather indignant, caused her to turn to the doorway, and Dean took advantage of the situation to disarm her. “I got in trouble for doing that.” 

“Your father said something he shouldn't have.” she signed as she spoke. “Since I can't put him in time out, he gets hit with a pillow instead.” She smirked. “Tell your father what I did to help with the baking of his birthday cake. He seems to think all I did was open the box.” 

The girl came into the room and stood in front of the foot of the bed. “Mama did more than that, Daddy.” She was grinning, and automatically, Ignacia knew she should be worried – she knew that look. “Mama got out the eggs, the butter, the icing, and the candles. She also opened the oven door, but that's because Mister Jay didn't want me anywhere near it.” 

“Traitor.” She stood up and ruffled her daughter's hair. “I thought we were going to keep my minimal involvement in the baking of your daddy's birthday cake a secret.” 

She wrinkled her nose in response. “I don't understand, you told me it was wrong to lie.” She bit at her lip, a nervous habit Ignacia had seen in Dean all to often. “What am I supposed to do?”

“She's got you there.” Dean stood up and came over, picking the little girl up as if she were still two, instead of five. Then again, Liesel hadn't grown much since that age. “What do you think of Mommy's scarf?” 

“It's pretty.” The girl declared, smiling. “It'd look better if it was pink though.” 

Ignacia laughed and stood, kissing her daughter's cheek. “You think everything would be better in pink.” She adjusted the bow on the girl's braid. “What are you going to order for dinner?” The three of them started out of the room. “Wait, let me guess... chicken nuggets and fries?” 

“That's for _babies_.” Liesel made a face. “And kids who don't know what good food is.” 

“Oh, and you know what good food is?” Dean set her down before they got to the stairs. 

“Uh huh. I saw the lunch ladies dumping ravioli out of a can the other day. I was glad I didn't have to eat it.” She scurried down the stairs, and Ignacia could hear her heading for the mud room. 

“Jay let her lick the bowl, didn't he?” Dean chuckled as they went downstairs. “I'm starting to think my mother is right about sugar.” 

“She's five.” She waved her hand towards the kitchen. “And really, compared to some of the five year old kids running around these days, we've got one of the best.” She gave him a slight grin. “Besides, she didn't lick the bowl, just the beaters. _I_ got the bowl and a spoon.” 

*

Liesel gave the basket of chips on the other side of the table another look, it was out of her reach and she'd eaten the six chips that Daddy had set on her napkin before moving it. She wrinkled her nose; then sat back in her seat, her focus on the pictures in the menu Mama was holding. She could read most of the words; she'd been reading since she was three, but she wasn't certain how to pronounce around half of the words. 

Daddy set his menu down and took a drink of water, and gave her a smile, catching the look she gave the chips. “You can have a few more chips after we order. I want you to eat a good dinner.” He turned his attention to Mama. “What's wrong?” 

She looked up, and Liesel could see she looked tired. “I'm trying to find something that's not too spicy, the trouble is, everything that sounds good is loaded with it. It's like being back in Deva and dreaming about my mother's fresh baked bread.” 

Liesel turned from her parents and back to her coloring book that Mr. Jay had gotten her for Christmas. It was from _The Princess and the Frog,_ which he'd taken her to go see because Mama had been too tired – Mama was tired so often these days. Daddy said she had to be patient, that Mama would get better, but it seemed like she'd been sick forever. Well, she wasn't going to be worried, because Mama was going to get better. That's all she'd asked Santa for and while he'd brought her some wonderful gifts a few weeks ago, the Doctor had left her a note saying that Santa was still doing what he could to grant her Christmas Wish. She looked up when she saw a finger tap the corner of the coloring book.

“Do you know what you want for dinner, sweetie?” Daddy 

“Uh huh. Tacos.” She grinned. “The yummy ones with the beef strips.” 

Daddy chuckled. “No kiddie menu for you, right?”

“Kiddie menus are for picky eaters.” She took a drink from her glass of water. “That what Mrs Stein says.” 

“And I would say she's mostly right.” He shook his head as Mama set her menu down. “Find something?” She nodded and took a drink from her own glass, and the server suddenly appeared by their table.

“Sorry about the wait. Are you all ready to order?” He pulled the small notebook out of his apron.

“Yes, please.” Daddy replied, 

“Uh, all right.” He looked around the table and then turned his attention to Ignacia. “What can I get for you, ma'am?” 

“I would like the stuffed avocados, please.” She handed him her menu then looked at Liesel. “She would like the barbacoa tacos.” She gave the man a smile as she smoothed down the girl's hair. Mama had been doing that a lot lately. Ever since she cut all of her own hair off. 

“Sure.” He scribbled the order down on his pad before looking at Dean. “And for you, sir?” 

“Pork tenderloin fajitas.” Liesel turned her attention back to her picture, letting her parents talk, and switching out her pink crayon for one of the greens. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Daddy set four more chips on her napkin and she grinned. Chips were an uncommon thing in her house; most food that people considered 'junk' was. Neither of her parents had eaten a lot of sweets growing up (although how chips were a sweet, she had no idea) and even now that they were grown ups, they didn't have the stuff in the house. The only sweet thing Liesel could count on always being in the cupboard was honey-nut Cheerios. She set down her crayon and switched it for one for one of the chips. 

As she sat up to eat it, Liesel caught sight of a woman sitting a few tables away from her and her family. It wasn't that there weren't other people eating dinner, but what struck the girl was that this woman was pretty – the sort of pretty that wasn't supposed to be real. The lady had blonde hair that sort of had a silvery glimmer to it, and she was wearing a bright red shirt. Even though she was wearing such normal clothing, the lady reminded her of the illustration of the Queen from _Rumpelstiltskin_ in her grandmother's fairy tale book. Liesel knew it was wrong to stare, but this was the sort of person you couldn't help but stare at. 

Then, almost as if she knew she was being watched, the lady looked at her. 

Liesel instantly looked back down at her coloring, but glanced back to see that the woman was now observing her, resting her chin on her hands. She said something to her companion, and a curly haired man, well, maybe he was a teenager turned and looked at her as well. He grinned, which she automatically returned. 

“Lis honey?” Mama's hand was on her arm. “What is it?”

“Uh...” She didn't want to admit that she was being rude to a total stranger so she looked from her mom to the lady, who had by now, turned her gaze, but then she did, and when Liesel looked from her mom to the lady, the lady lifted her glass towards her mother. 

“She looks familiar.” Daddy looked back and shook his head, then he turned his attention to the pair of them. “Perhaps she was a judge once.” 

Mama covered her mouth her with hand and cleared her throat. “She's too young for that.” 

Liesel ate her chips, not certain why Mama and Daddy always used the expression 'perhaps they were a judge' when they couldn't place someone. She tried not look at the woman anymore, but every now and then, she would glance back up towards that table, and when she did, the lady was focused on her, and each time, the pretty woman would make a silly face, or she would smile.

*

Dean tapped his fingers against the steering wheel, still not entirely certain what had just happened. The fact that a total stranger had paid for his and his family's meal was something he couldn't quite fathom. Perhaps it might be easier if the stranger had offered a reason for doing it; some sort of explanation. When he'd first caught sight of the woman that Liesel had been watching, he felt unsettled, the feeling that he should be able to place the lady, but couldn't. He looked over at Ignacia, who wore a perplexed expression. “Are you all right?”

“Who was that lady?” she shook her head and then said something in Romanian, or he assumed she did, since what her lips moved in a way he couldn't read. She rubbed her temple. “I'm tired.” 

He nodded then turned to check on Liesel, whose focus was out the window. “Lis?”

She turned. “What's wrong, Daddy?”

“Nothing, sweetheart. You didn't know that woman, did you?” He thought for a moment. “She's not a teacher at school, someone who visited, is she?”

Liesel shook her head. “She looked like a picture from grandma's fairy tale book. Maybe that's what it is.” 

He frowned. “Maybe. You buckled?”

She nodded. “All ready.” 

He smiled and turned back around, glancing over at Ignacia, who gazing out the window. “Let's go home.” Dean put the car in gear and they headed out. It seemed much later than seven-thirty as he drove home, the scent of the leftovers wafting through the car from their spot in the backseat with Liesel. Cilantro and onion, and he remembered how he'd told several of his coworkers at the hospital where he was going for dinner. They also seemed shocked that, with the exception of pizza, he'd never eaten Italian food 'out'. 

His grandmother and mother would never let him live it down if he did. 

He slowed the car down at a red light at Davy Crockett Boulevard, checking on Liesel in the rear-view mirror. He blinked in surprise as she was smothering giggles. “Lis, what's so funny?” 

She gave him an embarrassed look. “Mama is snoring.” 

Dean frowned and looked over in the passenger seat. Sure enough, Ignacia head was leaning against the window, her breath visible against the glass. “I guess she was more tired than she thought.” He smiled as he started forward. He was starting to wish that they had stayed home for the evening, just let the whole matter drop entirely. It wasn't that big of a deal, turning thirty one. Pizza at home would have been fine; he'd had far worse birthdays. 

As he pulled car into the garage, parked it and closed the door, he turned to Liesel again. “Can you take the leftovers in and put them in the fridge?” She nodded. “Then I want you go brush your teeth and put on your pajamas, okay?”

She frowned at that. “Cake?”

He shook his head. “Not tonight, sweetie. I know, you, Mama and Mr Jay worked hard on it, but I'd rather us have cake when we can all be here to enjoy it, okay?”

She nodded, looking solemn. “Mama's okay, isn't she?”

“She's just sleeping, Lis. That's all. I'm going to put her to bed, that's more comfortable than the car.” He sighed. “It's not so late, I think we might have time to watch an episode of _Doctor Who_. Or we could start one of the chapter books you got for Christmas, which would you like to do?” 

“Book!” She grinned and he got out of the car, going around to unbuckle the girl and handed her the leftover bag. “I'll pick one out after I'm ready for bed.” 

“Good girl.” He waited for her to duck under his arm and he closed the door. “Can you get the door into the house?” 

She nodded and a moment later, he watched the door swing open and she hurried inside, leaving it partially open.

Dean sighed and opened the passenger door, and Ignacia's mouth fluttered as the air rushed in, her head lolling to the other side. “Next time, we're staying home.” He unbuckled her and slid one arm under her knees and the other around her waist, lifting her out and standing so her head was against his shoulder. “And we're moving dinner to five-thirty.” 

Ignacia was pathetically light; she had always been. Even when she was nine months pregnant, she hadn't weighed more than a hundred and twenty-five pounds. He had never had any trouble lifting her and carrying her anymore than he did Liesel. The horrifying thing was, he knew that his wife was going to lose a lot more weight before her battle with cancer was done. She had so little fat to spare, it was just going to get worse before it got any better. The lights were all on as he made his way upstairs, and he caught a glimpse of Liesel leaving her room to go to the bath. It was the process of taking off her shoes that Ignacia finally stirred. He saw her look of confusion and then she tried to sit up. “You go on back to sleep, we're home now.”

She shook her head, jerking her feet free from him and managed to sit. “Don't remember how...” she frowned. “I have to take something before I go to sleep... I can't...”

He kissed her forehead. “I'll get your pill minder and some water. You stay put.” 

“Pajamas...” She fumbled forward and he caught her. “Dean, I'm not helpless.”

He took a breath. “I know you're not helpless. I also don't want you falling asleep in the middle of the floor. I'll bring you your night clothes, and you can change while I'm taking our shoes back downstairs.” He went over to the dresser and drew out a pair of pink sleep pants and an oversized shirt, taking it back over to the bed. “There you are.” He picked up both pairs of discarded shoes. “I'll be right back.” Dean hurried downstairs, leaving their shoes in the mudroom, and after double checking that the leftovers had made it into the fridge, set the alarm, and then headed upstairs, turning lights out as he went. 

“Lis?” He called at the top of the stairs, going over to her room. “You pick a book out?” He frowned when he found it empty. A small jolt of panic filled him, the same as it did that horrible night he'd not heard a storm that had woken his baby girl, and he hurried to the master bedroom, and stopped short at the sight of Ignacia brushing out their daughter's hair. “Your mother needs her rest.” 

Liesel opened her mouth, but it was Ignacia who spoke. “Oh, hush, Dean. Now come over here so you can learn how to braid our little girl's hair for days when I'm too tired to do it and Jay isn't here.” 

Dean shook his head at the pair of them and came and joined them on the bed. This wasn't a so bad way to end his birthday. Thirty one wasn't that big of a deal anyway – Ignacia would be thirty this October. They would have a party for her; both to celebrate her birthday, and her remission. Spaghetti, meatballs, garlic knots – and of course, the infamous Ambrose bread pudding would be on the menu. Well, maybe the remission part would come sooner; he hoped it did. Certainly Liesel wouldn't object to sharing her birthday in June with a celebration for that.

**Author's Note:**

> “Rebeca!” - Sass!  
> “Te târî pic!” - You little creep!
> 
> The picture Liesel refers to: https://c4.staticflickr.com/8/7178/6879409614_31cd688b80.jpg (from the Big Golden Book of Fairy Tales)


End file.
